We Always Survive
by kimbuhlay
Summary: Set after the s3 finale. Elena's human life is over for good, but her transition raises a lot of new issues for her and the Salvatores to navigate. Along the way, she finds that her diet and abilities aren't the only things that are changing... ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic was inspired by a photoset (THIS ONE: katerinapierce . tumblr . (c) o m / post/27951999417/ - just remove the spaces and parentheses) made by one of the most incredible people I know: Ash. She also beta-read this for me, and really I do not know what junk you would have all ended up with if I hadn't had her to put me on the right track, so you should all be very, very grateful. She's just amazing.  
I'm a very busy person so updates on this will most likely be slow; sorry about that. I'm also aware that as of episode 3x09 (again, thank you Ash, my walking TVD encyclopaedia), Elena no longer possesses the vervain necklace. Sh*t happens. I'm not changing it. =)  
Please read and review, it means a lot! ~ K**

**A/N 2: sorry about the reupload, I didn't realise FFN removed my link. It's a bit of a jerk about things like that.**

* * *

Throwing herself backwards onto her bed, Elena let out a loud cry of frustration. The emotional turmoil of her transition coupled with the pain she still felt as her body adjusted had taken everything out of her. All she wanted to do now was curl up in bed and sleep for days and hopefully when she woke up, it would all have been some cruel dream and she'd be Elena Gilbert, weak and entirely human.

She still remembered waking on that cold metal table, unable to remember anything, yearning to rip out the throat of her concerned brother as he embraced her in relief. Damon had seen it in her eyes and gently yet persistently led her away from him.

"You need blood, Elena. To complete the transition."

Elena had stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe what he was implying. The babble of her friends and only remaining family member had been indiscernible and incomprehensible to her, but now they all watched her with varying degrees of fear and fascination; it all made sense.

"I died?" Her voice had risen slightly, incredulously, sounding foreign to her own ears.

Damon had nodded grimly, shooting a dark glance toward Stefan who stood brooding in the corner. He was the only member of the party who hadn't breathed a word since Elena had awoken.

"What… how… I had vampire blood in my system?" Her mind had been starting to whir now, and the burning thirst in her throat became more recognisable.

This time it was Meredith who'd received a death glare from the blue-eyed vampire; clearly he was not in a good mood. Elena didn't know what had happened while she'd been out, but her newly heightened senses were hyperaware of him and his seething fury.

"You were in the car…" Caroline had begun shakily, but her words had quickly conceded to sobs of equal parts relief and mourning, so Jeremy had taken over.

After a lot of explaining and more hugging, Stefan had mumbled something about rabbits and taken off. Elena's mind was still hazy, so she'd decided not to follow him.

Staring at her hands while the others talked around her, Elena had never felt more confused in her life. She remembered fragments of the night, but for the life of her, she could not think of any reason for the hostility Damon showed toward her now.

"Damon, I-"

"We should go," Damon had said tightly, addressing everyone. "All of us."

Jeremy had nodded and looked expectantly at Elena, but Damon had shaken his head.

"It's probably not a good idea."

It had taken a moment before understanding dawned in Jeremy's eyes; he'd nodded and left the room with a little wave. Elena had felt hurt course through her. She couldn't go home with her own brother because of the monster she was becoming. Hell, she'd wanted to tear out his throat earlier and she would have, if it weren't for Damon.

Elena's gaze had fallen on Damon then, noticing that he looked tired, like he'd aged a few decades since she'd joined the leagues of the undead.

"You should stay the night at the boarding house," Damon had said through his teeth. He'd looked pained as he suggested it, and Elena frowned. It was so unlike him. "You can… take care of the vampire thing and I can keep an eye on you."

Elena had shaken her head, tears filling her eyes. "I'll complete the transition but I want to go home. It's been a long day. I promise I won't hurt Jeremy; Caroline can come stay, can't you?"

The blonde had nodded. "I'll be at your place in an hour?"

Elena had smiled gratefully, ignoring Damon's obvious disapproval, but he hadn't pushed the matter.

So that was how Elena had ended up in her own bedroom now, with a gutful of B positive from Damon's basement and a heart overwhelmed with the emotional trauma of the past day. While she'd fed, Damon had been unable to even look at her, and as much as Elena wanted to deny it, it had hurt. She'd left the boarding house with only a quiet word of thanks that he hadn't even acknowledged. Caroline had arrived only moments after Elena returned, but she'd accepted that Elena wanted to be left alone for a while and was curled up on the couch downstairs watching Project Runway.

Elena was grateful that her friend understood her needs so well, but for the first time in a while, something deep within Elena ached for the comfort of her mother. She longed to bury her face in her mother's shoulder and cry for no specific reason, and to have her mother whisper consoling words and stroke her back to soothe her until she drifted off to sleep.

Instead, Elena only had a photo in a silver frame and a pillow to offer any solace. Bitterly, she swallowed her pain and stood to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Studying her features carefully, she concluded that she didn't look very different. A shade paler, perhaps, but only sharp vampire eyesight would be able to differentiate between her former self and this new version of her.

Turning toward the bathroom, Elena suddenly heard distant, echoing words in her head.

_'I just have to say something.'  
_

She glanced around, unnerved, and her eyes fell on her necklace. A fallen symbol of her humanity, the thing had singed her flesh the moment she'd completed the transition. She'd left it in a little plastic bag on her dresser upon returning home, now that the gift was rendered completely useless.

The necklace triggered something in Elena's memory, it was almost as if she could feel the clouds slowly clearing from her mind. She felt the ghost of a hand across her cheek and subconsciously raised her own to meet the phantom touch, oddly disappointed to encounter only thin air.

_'What I'm about to say is probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life.'  
_

"Damon?" Elena murmured softly. Slowly she turned back to the mirror and it was like flicking a switch; she clutched at her head as the memory overtook her.

* * *

_"Cute PJs."  
_

_Elena's gaze fell on the dark figure hunched on the windowseat. He toyed with something in his fingers, but Elena was too drained and battered to care.  
_

_"I'm tired, Damon," she said defensively.  
_

_He rose to his feet and wordlessly held out the thing he'd been holding – a silver locket – her vervain necklace.  
_

_"I brought you this."  
_

_"I thought that was gone," Elena said incredulously, receiving only the trademark Damon smirk in reply. "Thank you," she breathed, reaching for it gratefully, but he drew his hand away.  
_

_Elena's stomach flipped over. Her instinct had been right; he had an ulterior motive for being there.  
_

_"Please give it back," she asked quietly, desperately withholding the anxiety from her voice.  
_

_"I just have to say something." He stepped toward her, but Elena matched him in backward paces.  
_

_"Why do you have to say it with my necklace?"  
_

_"Because what I'm about to say is probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life."  
_

_Elena breathed in sharply. "Damon, don't go there."  
_

_"No, I just have to say it once," he protested. "You just need to hear it." He approached her again, and this time Elena was too stunned to step back. He stood, mere inches from her, and gazed with his beautiful blue eyes directly into hers.  
_

_"I love you, Elena."  
_

_She blinked at him; words failed her.  
_

_"And it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you… why you can't know this."  
_

_Then his brutal confession made sense; he was going to wipe her memory.  
_

_"I don't deserve you."  
_

_Elena fought for something to say but she didn't yet know what, beg him to stop? Not to compel her?  
_

_"But my brother does."  
_

_He leaned in as if he wanted to kiss her and Elena's heart stopped, but the lips she anticipated pressed gently to her forehead instead. After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped back from her, and she swallowed, hard.  
_

_He stroked his hand over her cheek and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear.  
_

_"God, I wish you didn't have to forget this."  
_

_She saw tears in his eyes now and her heart constricted; she wanted him to stop, she didn't want to forget, she wanted some time to think and process and-  
_

_"But you do."  
_

_And her mind went blissfully blank, her room empty, leaving merely an aching hollowness in her chest as the only reminder of her visitor._

* * *

Feeling sick, Elena collapsed to her knees, gasping, her eyes burning with hot tears. Damon had bared all that raw emotion and _humanity_ to her and then, out of decency, he'd made her forget that it had ever happened. She hated that he believed he had to compel her, that she would have such an adverse reaction to it, that it would be better to cease the inevitable dominos before they fell but first he just needed to gently brush the first tile and watch it teeter back and forth. He'd told her again, later, and in all honesty she'd known for a while, but this first confession was different; it affected her more than she wanted to admit.

She felt immense guilt now for the way she'd treated him at the Mikaelsons' ball. She'd cut his feelings to ribbons and now she understood how much it affected him. For all the armour that Damon wore in front of the world, he was a hopeless romantic, and she had known that from the century and more he'd spent longing for Katherine. He'd allowed himself to love again, admitting it to himself as much as to her, but he'd been so afraid of heartbreak that he hadn't given her a chance to even speak. Now so much had happened and Elena's world was a whirl of grey rather than the clear black and white life she had desired. She didn't know what to think.

As her breathing evened out, she felt the fog clearing again, quicker this time. An earlier stolen memory pressed at her mind's eye.

* * *

_"Katherine."  
_

_The name was spoken by an unfamiliar voice with a confusing mixture of reverence, desire, and accusation. Elena jumped slightly, unaware that she had not been alone.  
_

_The man before her simply radiated sex appeal from every pore. He was potentially the most dangerous looking guy she'd laid eyes on in a small town like Mystic Falls, with his tousled hair as black as night and sleek leather jacket. His bright blue eyes were brimming with hope and incredulity, a stark contrast to his mysterious aura. Elena awkwardly bit her lip.  
_

_"Uh, no… I'm Elena." Her voice came out higher than usual, and she cringed. It clearly betrayed her young age and lack of maturity which this guy exuded.  
_

_"Oh, you… you just look like…" He sighed, still piercing her with his gaze like he believed 'Katherine' would laugh and drop the charade at any moment.  
_

_"I'm sorry, you just really remind me of someone." He'd changed; his voice was stronger, more confident, and he'd lost the vulnerable expression in his eyes. "I'm Damon."_

_"Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."  
_

_He smirked slightly at her. "You're one to talk; you're out here all by yourself."  
_

_"It's Mystic Falls – nothing bad ever happens here."  
_

_Damon continued to stare, and Elena shifted uncomfortably, searching for something to say.  
_

_"I… got into a fight with my boyfriend." She could have kicked herself the moment those words came out of her mouth. Intriguing, attractive strange men did not need to know anything about her personal life.  
_

_"About what? May I ask," Damon added, raising his hands as if surrendering.  
_

_Elena shook her head ruefully, searching for a suitable explanation.  
_

_"Life. The future. He's got it all mapped out."  
_

_"You don't want it?" Damon asked, perceptively.  
_

_Elena shrugged slightly. "I don't know what I want."  
_

_He smirked again; an expression that both infuriated and excited her simultaneously. "Well, that's not true. You want what everybody wants." He was teasing her, and Elena responded with a smile on her face.  
_

_"What, mysterious stranger who has all the answers?"  
_

_He laughed. "Let's just say I've been around a long time. I've learned a few things." His playful smile had her breath catching in her throat and her eyes glued to him.  
_

_"So, Damon, tell me," Elena challenged. "What is it that I want?"  
_

_He paused a moment before slowly approaching her. "You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and even a little danger." He continued to smirk at her and Elena lost her train of thought, swimming in the oceanic blue of his eyes. She grasped at her rationality, though little remained considering her current predicament.  
_

_"So, what do you want?"  
_

_He seemed thrown by the question, blinking in surprise, but they were interrupted by the distant sound of a car horn and Elena turned to look._

"_That's my parents," she said, relieved and disappointed at the same time. She turned back to Damon and suddenly he was closer, and she could smell cologne and bourbon and the leather of his jacket and see every fleck of light in his irises.  
_

_"I want you to get everything you're looking for." His gaze held hers like a magnet; she was unable to blink or look away. "But right now, I want you to forget that this happened." He winked slightly. "Can't have people knowing I'm in town yet."  
_

_After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Goodnight, Elena."  
_

_And her mind went blissfully blank, left alone in the clearing, leaving merely an aching hollowness in her chest as the only reminder of the mysterious stranger._

* * *

Elena returned to reality, curled in a corner with her fists pressed to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to mask the violent sobs emitting from her. For the whole time she'd known Damon, really known him, she'd told herself that she was meant to be with Stefan because they'd met first. It was clear-cut; it was her justification for rejecting Damon countless times; it was the mantra she chanted in her head whenever the traitorous butterflies ran riot in her stomach due to Damon's presence. Now that point was completely and utterly irrelevant.

That first glimpse she had of him now opened her eyes to the humanity that had always existed in Damon, before the sibling rivalry and selfish, ruthless doppelgangers had brought out his darkness. It pained her to see the way his eyes had looked when he'd thought she was Katherine – but she had seen those eyes gaze at her with the same combination of longing and hesitance in her first recollection, when he had confessed his love and then cleared it from her mind. Damon rarely let the barriers of his mind down, but when he involuntarily did, it was something both beautiful and tragic to behold.

Elena wondered why he hadn't hurt her. The Damon she'd met couldn't care less about the welfare of humans – though he didn't deliberately cause harm and terror for the sake of it – and would never have hesitated to feed on and take advantage of a gullible, beautiful girl; exhibit A: Caroline. Elena wondered what made her so different that she got a heartfelt speech instead of a neck wound and spot of vampire blood to heal it.

Overwhelmed by the onslaught of information, Elena had snatched up her car keys and was on the way to the boarding house before she was completely aware of it. Her new vampire skills and reflexes extended to driving too, as her foot pressed the pedal until she was roaring along the otherwise silent streets.

Upon her arrival, she let herself straight in and found Damon in the parlour, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace. He didn't turn to face her; he knew the sound of her breathing, of her delicate footsteps, even as a vampire.

"What are you doing here, Elena?" His eyes lifted up to meet hers as she stepped directly into his line of vision.

"I remember," she whispered, without hesitation, and he dropped his gaze. "Everything."

Elena braced herself, leaning against the wall, but his torrent of excuses and explanations never came. Instead, he sipped at his bourbon as the prisms in the glass caught the firelight, sending colours dancing across the room. Elena followed them with her eyes before glancing down at her hands.

"Are you going to say something?"

"What would you like me to say?" His voice was cool, detached.

"Anything! This is a big deal, Damon. These are big things that you forced me to forget."

"I disagree. _You_ are the one making a big deal out of it."

"You told me you _loved_ me."

"Is that new information?"

Elena bit her lip and shook her head wordlessly.

"It doesn't change a thing, Elena. You still chose Stefan. It will always be Stefan. So the fact that you remember these things now is irrelevant."

She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.

"Listen to me for once in your life. We all thought we would die with Klaus. We believed that we only had hours left. You said your goodbyes over the phone and you turned back. To Stefan. That's pretty final, don't you think? You and me and whatever we had in Denver is _over_. I will not wait for you anymore. You made your decision."

Elena swallowed to suppress her tears. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew he was right, and she was being selfish to expect him to stay for her. Damon returned to his stoic vigil, ignoring her completely.

"You're wrong, you know," she said softly. He didn't meet her gaze but his brow hardened slightly so she knew he had heard her.

"And why's that?" Again, his tone was cold and distant.

She gazed at him imploringly until her met her eyes.

"You _do_ deserve me."

Before the last word had even rolled off her tongue, he launched at her with his vampire speed, his palms flat on the wall on either side of her head, his forehead a hair's breadth away from hers. His eyes were darker, like the ocean in a tumultuous storm, and the black veins stood out around them, pulsing ever so slightly. It would only take the slightest lean forward for their lips to collide.

"Why didn't you hurt me the night we met?" Elena breathed, without tearing her gaze from his.

"You're asking me this _now_?" Damon growled incredulously.

"I want to know, Damon."

He stepped back from her, only an inch, but it felt like it created voids between them and the near-tactile sexual tension dissipated.

"Initially, I thought you were Katherine," Damon began with a sigh. "You were so goddamned beautiful… you took my breath away. I could never harm anybody who looked like her; I loved her, I really did. But then you spoke and I realised you weren't her, and the more you spoke, the more I saw you as an anti-Katherine. You were sweet, and innocent, and honest, and open – all the things Katherine was not. You were so… human, you had your whole life in front of you, and there was just something about you that was so endearing but I couldn't place it. And the way you spoke to me, a stranger, the way you took an interest in what _I_ wanted in life? It threw me. You weren't Katherine, right from the beginning. I… you reminded me what it was to be human and even if I had wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to hurt you. I was truthful; I wanted you to find everything you were looking for; I still do, so even though I was curious about you, I let you go."

Elena could see the pure honesty in his face and slowly, reverently stretched out her fingers to caress his cheek. His eyelids fluttered closed at her touch.

"Elena…"

"Thank you," Elena whispered. "For being honest with me, like you always are. It's for that reason that I will always trust you, Damon. I know it's selfish of me, but I need you. As much as I don't deserve your forgiveness, I need you to help me get through this. Please, don't leave me now."

"Therein lies my biggest problem, Elena."

She glanced at him curiously as he slowly and deliberately returned to the sofa and downed the rest of his bourbon.

"I don't know how to leave you."

Elena smiled brilliantly and with another whispered word of thanks, she left a light kiss on Damon's cheek as she vanished into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a little shorter than the first chapter but I wanted to end it here; it felt right. Please review, I'd like to hear your thoughts, especially on things I should include in my story and could take into consideration. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Jess for pre-reading some of it, sharing some of her ideas and listening patiently while I complained about pretty much everything I'd written. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"I _hate_ this!"

Elena snatched at the tree branches that left thin scarlet scratches along her arms and tore her shirt to ribbons, gritting her teeth in fury. Stefan bolted towards her, his face a perfect picture of puppy-dog innocence and concern in his wide green eyes. Elena whirled on him, brandishing the splintered limb like a stake, and he threw up his hands in surrender.

"Whoa, Elena, drop the chunk of tree."

She obeyed him but the anger in her eyes didn't lessen.

"Are you okay? Want to take a break?"

"No, Stefan, I've never been one for the great outdoors. I hate the scratches and blisters and bug bites, I'm tired, I'm frustrated with this _pointless_ hunting trip, and… and…" Her voice faltered slightly.

"And what?"

"And I'm fucking _starving_, Stefan." Elena cried out as the blackness filled her eyes and the veins protruded from her face, her fangs descending painfully in her mouth.

"Hey, hey, shh, it'll be okay," Stefan soothed like he was consoling a child. "We'll catch something soon, I promise. I swear I can smell some rabbits nearby."

Elena pushed him away with a feral snarl. "I don't want your _bunnies_." Her tone changed abruptly, pleading, wheedling. "Can't I have a blood bag, just this once? We can hunt tomorrow, I promise."

Stefan shook his head sadly. "I know you, Elena. This is what you want. It's just the hunger talking; you can't let it control you. If you succumb to it, you'll feel guilty and you'll struggle to give it up. It's an addiction. You've seen what it does to me."

"Exactly. You've denied yourself human blood for so long that you don't even know how to control it. She doesn't want to end up like you, Stefan." Damon stepped out of the shadows, a smile on his mouth that did not touch his eyes.

"This isn't her. This isn't what she wants."

"She didn't want to be a vampire at all, Stefan, but you screwed that one up, didn't you?"

Elena knelt to the ground, whimpering, wringing her hands, and Stefan flashed by her side only for her to push him away again.

"You've done so well, Elena. You've survived like this for a week. It'll get easier, I know you can do it, I believe in you." Stefan pathetically patted her shoulder, unable to get any closer.

"Damon's right," Elena sobbed, her voice so muffled that Damon wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "He can teach me to control it. I'll never have to kill anybody. I just can't bear feeling like this. You can eat all the bunnies in the world, Stefan, but I can't do this. I just can't."

"Try; just try! Even for just one more week. I promise it's going to get better; the worst will be over. If it's still not working, I guess you can try blood bags, but I know you're capable of being better than that."

"Better?" Damon and Elena echoed incredulously, and Stefan scowled.

"You know what I meant. Damon, can you just take her home? I'll bring back something for her. She just needs time and rest."

Stefan took off, a blur through the trees in the moonlight. Elena looked up at Damon, her eyes slowly reverting to their usual warm brown.

"Let's go home," he said softly to her, and she nodded tearfully, placing her small hand within his.

* * *

A few days later, Elena was crouched near the window, waiting for the sun to set. She hugged her knees to her chest, digging her fingernails into her skin until it bled, chewing on her lip, her eyes blacker than the night. She still hadn't tasted a drop of human blood since her transition and it was taking its toll. She hadn't seen Jeremy in days; she was left alone in the boarding house during the day, defenceless against the sunlight, and at night Stefan never left her side, always flitting about like an anxious parent.

_Only a few more minutes_, Elena told herself. _Stefan's not back yet. You can go outside and have a run or something to get rid of this._ She drummed her fingers impatiently on the hardwood floors, her breath quickening.

The back door swung open and Elena leapt to her feet, her eyes wide in panic.

"Elena?" Stefan's voice echoed through the spacious rooms, surrounding her from all sides, suffocating her like he had been since… since… well, before she wanted to admit.

"_No_!" The word ripped from her throat like the tortured cry of a wild animal and in desperation she leapt straight through the window, glass shattering around her, piercing her flawless skin, which immediately began to blister and burn as it was exposed to the evening sun. She screamed in pain, an unearthly sound, and adrenaline took over as she bolted for the trees.

Once in the shade, she fell gasping to the earthen floor and her skin immediately began to heal. She could hear Stefan calling her name from a distance – she'd moved so fast he'd been unable to see where she went.

When the pain had faded, she got up and crept quietly through the trees, her ears alert to any sound other than the sigh of the wind and the patter of little animal feet.

She breathed the cool evening air, feeling it fill her and awake her senses. Her newfound freedom felt better than she could have imagined.

After what seemed like hours of aimless wandering, Elena found herself at the edge of the forest facing a deserted road. Sighing, she realised she should return to the boarding house before Stefan blew a gasket looking for her.

As she turned back toward the trees, a strange sound filled her ears, a muffled pounding. She turned back, curious, straining her ears. She lifted her nose, trying to catch a scent…

And then it hit her.

She leapt to her feet, bolting back to the forest, her hands flying to her mouth as she felt the ache in her gums that signalled her fangs' appearance. The harder she tried to run away, the more difficult it was to fight the intense, roaring hunger in every part of her being. Her airways were constricting painfully and her throat burned in agony and she dropped to her knees, grasping at the dirt in desperation.

"_I can't_," she screamed, her body racked with sobs, knowing there was nobody around to hear her lamentation.

* * *

Time passed.

* * *

Elena lifted her head from her hands and cried out in horror of the sight in front of her. Two bodies lay at her feet, and a third a little distance away. The man closest to her had had his throat ripped out entirely, although the dark blood was already beginning to soak into the dirt. The redhead woman to her left had congealing wounds at her neck and wrists, and a dark stain was spreading out from her shoulder. Her eyes were open and glassy, her mouth forever in a silent scream.

"Oh God, oh _God_, what have I done?" Elena looked down at her own hands to see the evidence of her shame. She was covered in blood to her elbows, and there were tracks of crimson all the way down her chest and on her jeans. Tears streaked clear paths through her bloody cheeks as she crawled to her third victim, a younger, blonde girl lying face down in the dirt. Elena rolled her over and gasped in shock as she spotted a faint pulse in the girl's neck. She looked pale, with a small, neat bite mark at her collarbone, but other than that she seemed fine.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Elena breathed to herself. With vampire speed, she hid the corpses out of sight from the desolate road, covering them in general forest debris. Unsure what to do with the survivor, she slung one limp arm over her shoulder and half-dragged, half-carried the girl away from the brutal murder scene.

Elena wasn't conscious of her choice in direction, so she was surprised when she found herself in the hallway of Alaric's apartment. Before she lifted her hand to knock, the door swung open.

"I smelled the blood," Damon said simply, his eyes running up and down Elena's blood-soaked body.

He managed to keep his expression neutral rather than shocked or scandalised, like Stefan's would have been, and for that Elena was grateful. She simply stood and watched listlessly as Damon fed the girl some vampire blood, compelled her, and sent her on her way. He then turned his azure gaze on her.

"Shower?" He offered tentatively.

"The bodies." It was all Elena could croak out without breaking once and for all.

"I'll take care of it."

"Don't leave me!" Elena begged, her heart leaping into her throat as she seized his arm.

"I'm not planning to. I have an acquaintance who owes me a favour." He was already tapping out a message while he spoke and smiled reassuringly at her. "Go take a shower."

Elena reluctantly let go of him and wandered into Alaric's bathroom. The place still smelled faintly of his cologne and tears burned behind her eyes as she fought to suppress the pain of his loss.

She braced herself against the sink and looked at herself in the mirror for the first time, bile rising in her throat at the sight. Her face was encrusted with blood; her teeth were almost black with it. Her hair was tangled and matted with dirt and she could see where her feast had dripped down her chin and onto the collar of her once-green shirt. The smell of blood sickened her; she just wanted to kneel by the toilet and hurl out all the toxic evidence of her murderous rampage until she had nothing left.

Disgusted with herself, she stripped all of her clothes off and piled them into a plastic bag for burning later. She stepped under the showerhead, letting the icy water consume her without flinching until it grew warmer. She then took Damon's shampoo from the shelf and washed the dirt and blood from her hair, watching the rivulets of red, foul-smelling water circle the drain. She scrubbed beneath her fingernails with a washcloth until they gleamed white, and stepped out of the shower, dripping, only to grab Damon's toothbrush and step back under the spray.

Once she was completely clean, she wrapped herself in a crisp white towel and walked out to the living room, the water from her hair leaving a trail of droplets behind her. Damon turned to face her, his eyes filled with concern.

"I killed them, Damon," Elena whispered, her voice devoid of emotion.

"But you stopped, Elena. You could have done much worse."

"I don't remember a second of it. I heard somebody coming and I ran, I didn't want to hurt them. That's the last thing I remember; then I blacked out, and all of a sudden there were bodies and so much blood..."

"Elena, there's a lot of good things about being a vampire, but there's also a lot of bad. Killing people is an unfortunate side effect. It comes with the territory."

"I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"I know you didn't. Here, I found you some clothes. I didn't have any of your things here, I'm sorry." He handed her one of his old shirts and a pair of boxers and she gratefully took them, retreating back into the bathroom to change. The shirt smelled of him and she breathed it in, feeling her insides relax ever so slightly.

She walked back out and he held out a glass of thick O negative, and she crinkled her nose in disgust and turned away.

"That's lesson number one," Damon said to her, setting the glass down on the coffee table. "That feeling you get right now from that? Harness it. Hold onto it. You'll remember it every time the monster inside you tries to take over. That feeling is what's going to help you control this hunger. That feeling is something Stefan hasn't learned in one hundred and fifty years, and he never will. But you will never be like him; you will never be able to, because of what you feel right now."

Damon passed her a second glass, this time filled to the brim with an amber liquid that burned her nostrils as she sniffed it.

"Bourbon? Why?"

"Because I need a drink." Damon looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes, and Elena understood. The crystal glasses lined up along the mantelpiece told a tale worth a thousand words, along with the slight indentations in the solid brick wall, the remnants of Damon's furious grief.

"To Alaric," she whispered softly, taking a swig and gasping as the bitter alcohol stung her throat. Her eyes filled with tears, not only because of the taste, but because the man of whom the beverage reminded her was gone from their world forever.

Damon hadn't spoken about it since that awful night, but Elena knew that watching his best friend become a possessed monster and then dying in his arms had left its mark on Damon. She also knew that it had been hell for him to know that Alaric's death signified hers too, and that if she really had been gone forever, Damon might not have made it to see the next sunrise. But like many other things, the issue went unspoken between them.

Her eyes wandered over to the mantelpiece again, where a photo of Alaric and Jenna gleamed in the soft light. He was pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek; she was smiling brilliantly at the camera, her green eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated happiness. Elena couldn't restrain her tears as she lamented how cruelly they'd both lost their lives; two damaged people – Jenna by the loss of her sister and sudden parenthood, Alaric by the loss and betrayal of Isobel – somehow finding comfort and repairing themselves together. If only Jenna's life had not been cruelly sacrificed for Klaus' ceremony, things could have been very different – images of marriage, children, little cousins for Elena and Jeremy to play with and care for… these things were just bitter taunts now.

"It's all my fault," Elena whimpered softly, and Damon was by her side in a moment.

"No, no, shh…"

"It _is_. Everything that goes wrong is because of _me_. It's always been me, right from the beginning… I'm a curse. Everybody around me that I've cared about has died, though if I've been lucky, a couple of them have come back one way or another. And now _I'm_ the one doing the killing. I'm a monster. I'm an _abomination_. I should have died like they did; it's not _fair_ that I get to live."

He pulled her into him, unable to hear her anguished wails any longer. She cried into his chest as he stroked her damp hair, pressing kisses to her forehead and whispering nonsense into her ear.

"It's not your fault, Elena. Don't blame yourself, _please_." And it _was_ a plea, begging, because Damon couldn't bear to see her in so much pain. She had held herself together for so long, weathered every storm that life could fling at her, and now she was breaking, collapsing, coming apart at the seams.

He held her until she cried herself into submission, exhausted physically and emotionally. All trace of the vampire within her was gone now. She was just a broken, nearly defeated girl with an intense sadness and grief beyond her years.

"It's time to go home, Elena."

She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide with horror. "No!"

"Why not?"

"I can't go back, I can't face Stefan, not after what I've done, not dressed like _this_…" She gestured erratically at Damon's clothing, which he had to admit looked pretty damn good on her. The boxers showed off her long, slender legs and her curves were just barely visible beneath the worn fabric of his shirt, but he couldn't think about this now.

"I'll take you to your house then."

"But I can't! What if I can't control myself around Jeremy? If I ever hurt him, I'll walk straight in the sun without a daylight ring and never look back." Damon saw the conviction behind her words – she meant it, and even if she didn't, he knew the guilt of harming her brother would destroy the rest of her fragile psyche for all eternity.

"I still think it's better for you to be there. You'll be fine; I know you will be." She could control it; he knew she could.

"Will you stay there with me?" Elena grasped at the collar of his shirt beseechingly, blinking up at him through her tears. "Stay with me."

Damon shook his head, sadly disentangling her grip with patient fingers. "Not a good idea."

She remained silent, distant as he drove her home and half-carried her to her bedroom. Jeremy's breathing was soft and even in the next room as Elena climbed straight into bed without removing Damon's shirt.

Without realising what he was doing, Damon pulled her comforter up to her chin to tuck her in, brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she gazed at him. Her hand darted out from beneath the sheets to grasp his.

"Stay with me."

With his heart in his throat, he shook his head again and she looked dejected.

"It's not my place."

"But I trust you. I know you'll always protect me and the people I love. I know you'd never hurt me like _he_ has."

"And yet you still chose him." Damon was unable to keep the accusation out of his voice and he saw her visibly wince at the brutal honesty. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll wait outside until you fall asleep. Okay?"

She briefly hesitated, then nodded, and he smiled softly at her one last time.

"You're going to be okay, Elena. I _promise_ you. Goodnight."

"Night."

He moved to the window and sprang to the ground with catlike ease, moving to lean against an old oak tree and wait for the telltale even breaths and tiny sighs of her slumber.

But though he was far away, his sharp vampire hearing did not fail to pick up the words she whispered just before she allowed the fog of sleep to overtake her.

"Sometimes people make the wrong decisions."

And with that, she rolled over and slipped into a deep, all-consuming sleep, and Damon stalked away, disappearing into the night, his mind devoured by thoughts of a certain pretty brunette and her passionate kisses, allowing himself to feel the tiniest sliver of traitorous, beautiful hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: so, a little disclaimer is necessary here. There is some adult content in this chapter, and this is the most graphic I've ever been in my writing (for anybody who knows me, you'd know it almost physically causes me pain to write adult scenes because I'm very conservative and just awkward in general) so please give me a chance with this. This chapter took me five or six days to perfect, so your reviews would be greatly appreciated.  
Again I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Jess, who put up with my tears of embarrassment and stress over my failed attempts at the sex scene and helped turn it into something half-decent. I'm pretty damn lucky to have her in my life.  
Okay, hope you all enjoy it! *cringes and waits*  
~ K**

* * *

He'd let his guard down again.

That girl and those big brown eyes just turned him straight into a pathetic puddle of weak knees and raging hormones, like some nerdy teenager eagerly awaiting his first kiss from the most popular girl in school.

Damon had sworn to himself that he would get over her from the very second he'd realised she'd chosen his brother. Even after she'd turned, he'd vowed to move on with his life – there was no way in hell he was going to spend another century pining after her.

"Been there; done that," he murmured, throwing back the last of his eighth glass of bourbon for the evening. The memory of Elena begging him to stay had been plaguing him for the past week, so naturally he'd done his best to avoid all contact with her. Unfortunately, now she'd obtained a daylight ring, she'd taken matters into her own hands and tried to track him down at Alaric's apartment, so Damon had taken up bar-hopping his way through the surrounding area each evening.

"You look troubled," a sultry voice purred, and Damon looked up to meet the lethargic eyes of a _very_ intoxicated woman.

"You look drunk," he responded coldly, but it didn't seem to put her off. He'd estimate her to be in her mid-thirties, although she looked a lot older. She reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap beer, she definitely went too heavy on the smoky eyes and vibrant red lipstick for his liking, and her bleached blonde hair was in desperate need of a wash.

"I like a man who's deep in thought. Mysterious." Her words were slurred, almost indecipherable, and part of Damon reeled in disgust.

Maybe that was what he needed; taking some random, willing woman who was the complete opposite of everything he loved in Elena would surely be therapeutic for him. Again that same part of him protested, but he mentally muffled the voice with the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed.

"I'm Samantha." She blinked her grey-green eyes at him expectantly, and Damon swallowed hard and steeled himself.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She broke into a serpentine smile and nodded. "Dry martini."

Damon motioned to the bartender and shifted into predatory mode, seducing the woman with his eyes like he had done in the old days, before Elena.

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing in a seedy bar like this all by yourself?"

She preened like a scrawny housecat in the light of his half-hearted flattery and immediately launched into a long-winded story to which Damon paid no attention.

Instead, he fought to keep a certain pair of big brown eyes out of his head while he planned out _exactly_ what he was going to do to this woman tonight.

It was the only way to get Elena out of his system before she drove him completely crazy.

* * *

Elena curled up on the bed with an old copy of _Gone with the Wind_, wearing Damon's shirt again. Stefan had agreed to give her some space while she adjusted to vampirism – she knew Damon hadn't shared many details of her momentary lapse in control, but she also knew Stefan had been hurt she hadn't turned to him for help. She was still staying at the boarding house – in Damon's room – but Stefan left her alone most days, speaking to her only when it was necessary.

The worst part was that the silent treatment itself didn't bother Elena in the slightest – not from Stefan, anyway.

She found her mind wandering to _him_, as it often did these days. He'd been avoiding her, and she knew it; what she didn't understand was why. She'd thought their relationship was healing, especially with the moments they'd shared a week ago, but now they'd just reverted back to the awkward tension that Elena despised.

Elena soon found herself drifting off to sleep, her mind whirling with unvoiced thoughts and emotions…

She was awoken by the sound of a door slamming downstairs. She rose from the bed to investigate, shaking the tempting fingers of sleep away, but she hadn't made it to the door when it swung open to reveal Damon, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair all messed up in a good way, radiating his intoxicating scent of bourbon, cologne and leather that set Elena's nerves alight.

"Have you been drinking?" Elena asked, fighting to keep the tremble out of her voice.

Damon smirked wordlessly and pushed past her, flinging himself down on the bed.

"What are you doing here, Damon?"

"In case you've forgotten, I live here, and this is my bedroom. And that's my shirt, while we're on the topic of things that aren't yours."

Elena sighed and opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off, sitting up abruptly, his eyes piercing straight into her.

"No, Elena, it's _my_ turn to speak. _I_ am not yours. I am not yours to toy with or manipulate or make empty promises to."

Elena flinched at his harsh words, but she knew that he was justified.

"I have fought against everything I feel for you for longer than I would like to admit, but I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of pretending that I don't love you, that I would be able to go on living without you in my life. I'm tired of doing the right thing, of being the good guy – I was _never_ supposed to be the good guy, Elena! I'm tired of trying to be somebody else for you, only for you to use me and then throw me away when it's convenient for you."

He stood and flashed in front of her, meeting her eyes with a blazing mix of fury and passion.

"I'm flawed, Elena, we all are. So as wrong as it is, as immoral as it is, I am going to say this before it destroys me from the inside out."

Elena sucked in a breath sharply. "Damon, please-"

"I, Damon Salvatore, am in love with you, Elena Gilbert, and this is the last time I will ever ask you to choose, once and for all. I want you to deny that there was ever anything between us; I want you to deny that you want to be with _me_. I want you to kiss me and tell me you feel _nothing_, that I've imagined it all, right from the beginning. I need you to enable me to move on, to make it easier to stop loving you."

She felt his gentle caress on her face and her eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, her breath catching in her throat.

"Elena."

She felt a tear slip from beneath her eyelid and he brushed it away with a touch as light as a feather. He was so close she could taste his breath on her lips.

"Look at me and tell me you don't love me back."

Unable to resist anymore, she leaned into him, their lips connecting. The kiss grew exponentially in intensity as she slipped her hands into his hair, opening her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. He wrapped one arm around her lower back, almost lifting her off the ground.

He pulled her back towards the bed, falling back onto it and pulling her with him. Their kisses were urgent, passionate, and as they rolled around, Elena's fingers deftly began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Elena," Damon murmured into her mouth, gently taking hold of her hands to stop her. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Elena panted, her eyes glittering as she stared at him in astonishment.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Oh believe me, I _want_ this…" _I _need_ this, _she added silently. She could feel the veins around her eyes burning; she'd never known pure _lust_ this intense and she craved him more than human blood. She didn't understand it and she didn't want to question it, she just wanted _him_ in every way possible.

She began to pull at his shirt again and this time he did not stop her, just stared at her with wonderment in his eyes, like she was a precious piece of artwork to be revered and admired.

"Kiss me, Damon," Elena whispered, and he obediently complied, and she could taste alcohol on his breath, along with the salty tang of his last meal. The hint of blood further increased her desperation and she tore his shirt from his body.

"I love my clothes on you," Damon murmured at her neck, pressing kisses to her pulse point and causing her skin to break out in gooseflesh. "But I'm going to take them off now."

He slowly pulled the shirt over her head, and then slipped her pyjama shorts off her, flinging the unnecessary items of clothing away and leaving her only in her navy blue lace bra with matching panties. Her skin tingled where he touched it and burned where he kissed it, every sensation sending her higher and higher.

She unsnapped the button on his jeans and pulled them off his legs with lightning speed, running her fingers over his rippling pectorals and abdominal muscles that she'd often admired when he paraded around shirtless. With nothing but their underwear between them, it was obvious exactly how much Damon wanted her right now.

He flipped her so he was above her and slipped his hands under her back, undoing the clasp of her bra and sliding the straps off her shoulders, kissing to her collarbone as he pulled the garment away from her body. His mouth journeyed lower, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the top of her breast while his fingers grazed over the sides, running them over her soft, unblemished skin. She seized him by the back of the neck, pulling him back up to her lips, revelling in the sensation of his bare skin upon hers and wondering why she hadn't given into this particular urge sooner.

His hands wandered tentatively to the waistband of her panties, placing a tender kiss on her hipbone as he did so. He then proceeded to kiss down the inside of her thigh to her knee and then to her ankle as he pulled her underwear slowly down her long, smooth legs and discarded them.

Waves of heat rushed over her as his experienced fingers tortured her to the brink of release, only to cool her down with a gentle, languid kiss before he repeated the whole process. All of her nerves were wound up like tight steel springs and she emitted harsh cries and hisses of pleasure that brought a gleam to her lover's eye. He was clearly enjoying the things he could do to her and the ways in which he intimately knew her body better than she knew it herself. She was so deliriously aroused by his ministrations that she didn't even register his removal of his boxers until he was on top of her, gazing into her eyes, positioned at her entrance. She almost lost herself in the depths of whirling emotion in his eyes, feeling everything as he gently slid into her, the sensation causing her to scream out in ecstasy…

The sound cut through to her consciousness and Elena's eyes flew open as she sat up in bed, her eyes wild, her face flushed, and an aching need somewhere deep inside of her.

"What the hell?" Elena voiced aloud, her body still shaking from her vivid dream.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Her eyes darted to find Stefan lurking in the corner, his face devoid of any emotion.

"What? I…"

"You were thrashing around and crying out, so I thought there was something wrong. I rushed to check on you and saw you were asleep, having a nightmare or something. I was worried, but _obviously_ I didn't need to be worried because you then started moaning _his_ name."

"Stefan, I-"

"You were dreaming about fucking him. _Him_, not me – I thought you'd decided. I thought this whole ordeal would be over and I could just go back to having my girlfriend and my brother back the way things were before you fell for him." Stefan's voice was sharp and accusing, and Elena fired up back at him.

"I can't control who I dream about, Stefan. What did you expect me to do?"

He was silent for a moment, his face stone cold.

"I _did_ choose you, Stefan, but-"

"You didn't deny it."

Elena was thrown for a moment.

"I didn't deny what?"

"That you've fallen for him."

Elena's heart sank but she watched in silence as he stormed out of the room, hearing him take off into the woods a moment later. Tears sprang to her eyes as she leaned back into her pillows, her body still on edge and yearning to finish what had been started in her dream.

She had no idea what she could say to Stefan to fix this, but there was one thing she knew for sure.

She needed Damon.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, Elena was standing in the hallway of Alaric's apartment, her chest heaving. She hadn't even driven; she'd just decided to use her vampire speed to her advantage. All she knew now was that every inch of her was begging for Damon; every pore of her skin screamed for his touch. She could feel the deep pulsing desire within her, aching to be satiated, needing _him_ over anybody else. It was a new part of herself Elena was just discovering: her spontaneity and desire for risk and passion rather than anything familiar and safe.

She rang the doorbell once, twice, three times, until a wasted, half-naked Damon flung the door open with a sullen scowl.

"Damon, I…" Elena trailed off, feeling the familiar prickle behind her eyes and the heat in her veins. "Is that blood?"

She could smell it; the air was thick with the scent, like rust or warm salt water. She studied his blank face carefully but his mouth looked clean; however, her eyes were drawn to the top of his right hand, where a burgundy smudge was quickly drying, as if he'd just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before answering the door.

Elena forced her way past him without much resistance; he was far too intoxicated to stop her.

"Elena," he mumbled, but she flashed to the bedroom and kicked down the door.

A pale, listless woman laid on the bed, completely naked, scarlet patterns fanning around her on the light gray comforter. Elena could just detect the victim's shallow breathing, and she stopped counting the bite marks covering her body after the first dozen. She turned to look at Damon, his sweatpants dangling torturously from his hipbones, showcasing his perfect torso, and Elena felt the fury building within her, more intense than any emotion she'd ever felt before.

"Did you sleep with her?" Elena demanded, her voice rising in hysteria.

"Why do you care?"

"Damon Salvatore, did you sleep with this piece of _trash_?"

He gazed at her coolly, smugly.

"So what if I did?"

Elena sucked in her breath sharply through her teeth, feeling the bloodlust take over, feeling her fangs descend into her mouth. She took one last fleeting glance at the helpless body on the bed, and then flashed to Damon, staring him straight in the eye, close enough that he almost thought she might kiss him.

"_Fuck you_," she spat, and she drew her hand back before slapping him in the face with all the force she possessed, breaking his jaw with her superhuman strength, sending him flying sideways into the dresser with a loud crash.

"What the _fuck_, Elena?" Damon cursed, pulling fragments of splintered mahogany out of his arms and legs and cradling his cracked jaw at an odd angle.

In deadly silence, she turned and stalked out of the room, leaving behind a half-dead whore, a trashed apartment and one dazed and perplexed blue-eyed vampire.


End file.
